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Brenna rocked so violently, the chair almost tipped over. When she lifted her head back up, she had pressed her gag deeper into her mouth so I could see the faintest line of blue on the inside of her lip. Just as I had glimpsed that day.
“You promised,” she rasped through the gag.
My stomach turned to stone. In anger for what I had to do and anger that once again the choice wasn’t truly mine.
I tightened the grip on my dagger and plunged it into Brenna’s chest once more. Just like the first time. Just like all the other dreams where Damien had forced me to do the same. Thick streams of tears poured down my face and I fell to my knees. The memory faded and all I could hear was the resonating sound of Damien’s laughter before I woke.
CHAPTERFIVE
IWAS FERAL.An entire day had passed since I had woken vomiting over my bed. It had taken two showers for me to realize the sweating was not going to end. Not without a drink. My entire body shook as if I was standing naked in the snowy abyss of Exiles Rest, yet beads of sweat dripped from my nose onto my chapped lips.
The city began to quiet as the night sky darkened, and I could no longer take it. I walked past the three trays of untouched food that Nikolai had brought to my burl and stalked into the night. He might have taken the wine out of the cellars but I doubt he had taken the trouble to search every room in Myrelinth.
There wasn’t a single drop of wine in the eastern wings of the lower city. I walked through each of the rooms with a tiny faelight to light my path, covering it with my brown cloak every time I heard someone draw near.
I took an alternate route past the kitchens but could still hear Nikolai and Lash cooing over each other. Knowing Nikolai, I didn’t need to ask why they had sought a snack in the middle of the night.
I left them to it and slipped into the first room I came across along the curving tunnel. The only light inside came from the hearth along the back wall. The fire had mostly burned away, though a few small flames still dance along the burnt remnants of a log.
The bed was grand with a canopy of silks hanging from the four posts at each corner. On either side were piles of dusty books and scrolls. A white tunic was strewn across one of the piles with an ink stain along one sleeve.
Killian’s room.
My breath hitched. I hadn’t realized that the tunnel I had taken reconnected with the wing where Killian and the others slept. I knew his room was close to Feron’s and Nikolai’s—Vrail’s was somewhere near too, but I had never been in it.
I turned to the bed. Not a single wrinkle marked the coverlet that was split down the middle with the amber leaves of an Elder birch. One side of the leaves was a dark violet, the same shade as the first streaks of night, while the other was a bright jade like morning sun along dew-covered grass.
Dusk to dawn, the hours one was meant to sleep, but it didn’t look like Killian had touched the bed at all.
I glanced around the rest of the room. There was a small closet filled with black jackets and the occasional burgundy tunic. Apart from that and the books, the only other thing in the room was a cabinet.
The tall cupboards were stocked with quills and bottles of ink, nothing that would satisfy the craving at my throat. I rummaged through the bottom drawers and found more of the same. Papers and books with more sheaves stuck inside them.
I kicked the cabinet and something clinked along the floor.
A glass vial had rolled out from underneath the dark wood and sat at the edge of my boot. The top was a simple cork and the vial was filled with something other than ink. Three blackwinvraberries sat inside. The same ones that Killian had tossed to me the day we ran for our lives through the portal.
I stilled, staring at the dark berries. The elixir had stopped the dreams, at the cost of heightened pain, but the berries would be different. I wouldn’t feel any pain, I wouldn’t feel anything at all. I would be beyond reach, of Damien, of my grief or the ghosts that followed it. The craving in my throat cooled, as if it was considering the choice too. There was no going back if I decided to take them, but I knew even Damien’s inventions could not reach me in the euphoria those black drupelets would provide.
My hand reached for the vial without my permission. I lifted it up to my face as I stood, inspecting the contents. My mouth watered at the thought of a night of peace, regardless of the cost.
Without warning, a hand broke through the darkness and snatched the vial from me. I turned, reaching for my dagger that was not on my hip, and saw Syrra throwing the berries into the hungry flames of the hearth. “Have you lost all sense?” she shouted in Elvish. Her dark eyes were frenzied in a way I had never seen them. Her nostrils flared as she looked at me, expecting a better answer than any I had to give.
My cheeks turned hot and my tongue turned sharp. “Areyoureally in a place to lecture me?” I knew I was being cruel and I didn’t care.
Syrra’s lip curled back and for a moment I thought she was going to strike me. “I have stayed silent these long weeks because it was not my place to dictate how you grieve. But if you insist on harmingothers while you mope, I will not condone it.” Her fingers curled around the hilt of her curved blade.
I scoffed. “How I choose to escape will not harm anyone. Not in a way that matters.”
Syrra’s eyes softened but her hand did not move. “I know you do not believe that, Keera. Do you not think it will scar everyone if you make them watch you waste away any more than you already have? Do you think any of us could easily live out the rest of our days without you?”
I swallowed the thickness growing at my throat. “The time of easy days is gone, but perhaps they would be easier without me.” I looked at the swirling flames so I didn’t have to see Syrra’s disappointment.
She took a step toward me, so delicate and quiet I couldn’t hear her boots on the floor. Her hand reached out like the branches carved into her arms and brushed my cheek before lifting my chin. “Pain is like a poison. It is better leeched than swallowed.” She glanced down at the fire, and I could see the strain in her neck. “Make sure whatever you swallow is worth the pain it causes.”
The truth sat on my tongue, hot like a flame, but I didn’t dare speak it. There was nothing Syrra could do to stop the dreams. And from her speech it was clear she knew the Shades were dead even if the others refused to accept it. Telling her wouldn’t leech my pain, it would only infect her with my burden.
Sometimes secrets had to be swallowed.
